


Muted Sorrow 默哀: An extra to Mourning in Silence (One Shot)

by VirginieZ



Category: Táng Cháo | Tang Dynasty RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Battlefield, Brotherly Love, Fighter/Sacrifice, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Historical Accuracy, Historical Inaccuracy, Male Friendship, Military, Tears, brothers in arms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginieZ/pseuds/VirginieZ
Summary: （中文版在第二章）The story will reveal what happened to Pei Xingyan after he died and what happened to Cheng Zhijie after the last scene in my previous story, Mourning in Silence.PS: Cheng Zhijie = Cheng Yaojin (I don't know why I kept switching between the two names in the story)





	1. English Version

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [靜·殤 Mourning in Silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345176) by [VirginieZ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginieZ/pseuds/VirginieZ). 



He sat on the rock and sighed noiselessly to the night sky. Howling autumn wind blew mercilessly, ripping the water into thousands of pieces. Lines of trees trembled under a crescent moon that illuminated the turbulent night. The translucent figure shone faintly under the moonlight, silent as a stone, forming a distinct contrast with the nature around him. 

It had been two years now.

He could vividly remember the whoop of the bloodthirsty blade and its cold contact with his neck. There was a few seconds of extremely excruciating pain; then, he felt himself rise into the boundless sky, lighter than a feather. Watching his family member killed one by one, in his heart emerged such a wave of anger that it burned with extreme fervent. He descended from above and attempted to slice the wretched murderer alive. However, no matter how hard he slashed and how quick he was, he always went right through the man's body, completely harmless. He realized, by then, that he was no longer the courageous fighter on the battlefield, nor the younger brother among his comrades. Bit by bit, the fire in his chest extinguished itself. Like a silent breeze he left his murderer, heading to an isolated area of the bustling city, disappointed. Loneliness, like a thick mist, submerged him in a bottomless sea of remorse. It soon evolved into desolation. He could not and would not communicate with anyone. The youthful spirit was now a silent, wondering soul. The heart went cold, freezing up like ice.

He tried to leave the city, leaving behind the place where the anguish memories reside. Yet, he could not pass the outermost wall whatsoever; it was the curse of hatred. 

On those nights with a crescent moon, in a part of the city no one visited, he would sit on a big rock by the river and recall the days spent with his brothers and comrades--the laughter they shared, the sweat they wiped away, and the tears they shed together. He knew very well that time could not reverse itself, but he hanged on to those memories, unable to let go. He wanted to go with Zhijie and Shubao to the Tang territory, where happiness and friendship resided, to convince his father not to assist in the treasonous plot, and to live instead of die.

_“I say, Xingyan, are you still sleeping?" The familiar voice echoed behind him._

_"Mmmm..."_

_"GET UP! We're running late! Don't let your laziness... ..." Oh that General Cheng, couldn't he be quiet? Just for once?_

_"Yes, SIR!" He jumped out of bed with incredible energy, tied his hair back, put on his shirt, pants, armor, and shoes, all in two minutes._

_"Oh, wow._ that's _my Xingyan. Good job!"_

_The smile and a slap he received proved that all struggles were worth it. For a long time, he considered sharing a tent with Cheng Zhijie as a "punishment" for his carelessness--the natural process of growing up, he believed, so why bother? Recently, he began to understand the reason behind Shubao's joke: that Yaojin had "sweets" deep in his guts._

_That day, for hours, they went through training intenser than before. As the afternoon came to a close, a voice came from behind again._

_"Hey, you alright?"_

_"Uh, yes." What was the matter with that person?_

_"You sure? Come, let's take a rest." He dragged him to the side. They sat down and shared a hearty drink of water._

_"I say, Xingyan, take care of yourself. I noticed you were paler than yesterday... ... How are you feeling?"_

_"I'm fine, don't worry, just really tired because I want to sleep more. Can you not scream me out of my bed?"_

_"Well, I still have to, sorry. Yeah, I know you teenage boys need lots of rest. We still need to work around the schedule, or else, you know what's gonna happen. Sleep early tonight, promise?"_

_"Okay, I promise."_

Under the emotionless moonlight, the soul gently caressed the rock under him. He looked next to him, wishing to see the rough-bearded man by his side, cross-legged, sweaty, and panting a little. There was no one. His heart sank, freezing a degree more rigid. It was not the first time he remembered those events, yet each time it was like the first--vivid, fresh, realistic, as if they happened no earlier than yesterday.

Days turned into months, and months turned into years. Without a word, he waited for the day when he could be free--the day when his sufferings ended, his revenge accomplished. He wanted to see his comrades one last time before he leave forever... ...

He observed how Wang Shichong's men were defeated by the Tang army, how the city was under siege for months, how famished bodies littered the streets with no one to bury them, how the beaten king opened the massive gate to surrender, and how the Tang soldiers rushed into the city, shouting victory cries. He saw Lou Shixin, standing in front of his grave, screamed his name wildly to the sky again and again, tears streaming down the weathered cheeks. He could see the face red with passion and the muscles protruding like angered bulls. He followed his old comrade, his dear brother in arm, to the outside of the city, knowing he will never return.

From that time on, he wandered through the towering mountains, rushing rivers, busy streets, and elegant gardens. The heart was peaceful but not at rest. Vaguely, he felt he was waiting for someone and anticipating some events to happen. The war had torn apart too many bonds, including his, and he could not find the other end of the his destiny. The nights were no longer harsh and waiting was no longer torturing, but time passes by, hardening his heart nevertheless. While old memories and messages of the ancient country called out to him now and then, under his frozen heart, something told him that all those did not belong to him. He shall not linger but continue searching.

* * *

Cheng Zhijie stayed outside the tent for a moment, looking at the starlit sky once more. Out of nowhere, an owl flew into his field of vision and let out a deep, echoing hoot. The veteran's heart throbbed at the remnants of past recollections. He could not let go of them; in fact, he did not want to. Desperately, he clang to the only connection he had with his fallen young comrade. No matter what, his little brother will live forever in his mind.

"Come in and sleep, Yaojin." Shubao's muffled call came from inside the tent.

He turned his head and faced the cream colored flaps. Reaching out his hands, he proceeded to pull them apart... ...he stopped. Images of the old days creep into his view. Without a word, Cheng Zhijie turned around. A tear dropped from the face looking up into the sky. Stars, for millions of years, still shone tirelessly at the turbulent world. He closed his eyes for a while, not wanting to see the crescent moon peeping from the cloud. Cold breezes dried his burning tears.

When he opened his eyes, a figure stood before him. It was that of a familiar one, wearing the same golden armors and silver helmet. Piercing gaze, already forgotten by many, emanated from those shining eyes--under the dashing eyebrows, on the pallid face. He was smiling faintly, as if saying: here we see each other again.

Cheng Zhijie's blood stopped flowing. It was HIM! The Xingyan that he missed so much, day and night, and could never meet! Why was he here? Wasn't he...dead?

Without a word, Xingyan stepped forward and gave Zhijie a hug, emitting every bit of warmth and shape he could gather--those he retained in the loving memories carved into his being. They did not say a word, but years of longing, agony, desolation, and turmoil dissolved between the tight clasps of two lost friends.

Eventually, the soul loosened his grasp. Both knew that the time had came. With his hands still on his shoulders, Cheng Yaojin looked into those pair of eyes for the very last time. They shone a different light. It was that of eternal satisfaction, peace, and joy. Smiling, he let go of the shoulders, already cold and translucent, before giving him a final pat. The general returned to his tent.

He stood there, knowing everything was over but still refusing to leave.

"Move on, Xingyan," a tender voice, melting his icy heart to the core, soothed lovingly. "You have missions to accomplish and jobs to perform in the future. Move on, my dear boy."

The restless soul settled down by those words. For the first time of many, many nights, droplets of tear fell from his lowered chin.

Now that all wishes were fulfilled, one journey ended while another was to begin. He sat on the rock and sighed noiselessly to the night sky.


	2. 中文版

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 講述裴行儼死後經歷。來源於作者憑空想像。

他坐在石上，仰望星空，默默嘆息。秋風狂吼，不由分說把河水撕成千萬碎片，波濤洶湧。月牙彎彎掛在空中，喬木聳立於四周，劇烈顫抖著。在那個凌厲的夜晚，一個身影微微發光、晶瑩透徹，如同青石般寂靜。

已經兩年了。

他清楚的記得鋼刀舉起、落下，嗜血並毫不留情；脖子上一陣涼，幾秒鐘痛徹肺腑。恍惚間，他輕飄飄升入萬里晴空，目睹家人被一個個了斷，血濺街頭。他不再按奈心中怒火，自空中落下，欲將那人萬剮凌遲。但無論以迅雷不及掩耳的速度或用盡平生氣力，兵刃只能穿過其身，對其毫髮無傷。此時此刻明白，自己已不是曾經馳騁沙場的猛將，再不是戰友們萬般呵護的兄弟。一點點、一寸寸，熊熊火焰停止燃燒，熄滅了。清風浮塵般的他離開了兇手，消沉中悄然前往城市喧囂裡無人拜訪的角落。孤獨如同看不穿的迷霧，包圍他，將他捲入深不見底的悔恨之海。失去了表達能力，也不想溝通。少年英靈如今已是蕩浪遊魂，寂寞、淒涼。心被層層凍結，化為寒冰。 

不願留在那充滿悽愴回憶的地方。當他怎麼也出不了城牆範圍內時，那是怨恨的詛咒。

每逢滿天星辰、伴著彎彎的月牙，他會坐在那塊大石上，回想從前和同袍兄弟們相聚的日子——開朗的笑聲、拭去的汗水、流過的淚。明知已回不去了，卻仍執著。任由秋風猛烈的颳那冰冷的心。他想重返當年，和知節叔寶一同歸順大唐、奔赴幸福和友誼之鄉。他願能說服父親遠離那些卑鄙謀反之徒。他希望自己活下去！

_“我說，行儼，還睡哪？”熟悉的聲音響起。_

_“嗯... ...”_

_“起來啦！咱晚了！再讓懶惰...”天哪，那個程將軍，就不能安靜點兒？哪怕就一次？_

_“遵命！”他像弓箭離弦，從床上一躍而起、綁好頭髮、穿上衣服、褲子、盔甲、靴子... ...一切發生在兩分鐘內。_

_“哇！這才是俺們行儼，不錯呀！”_

_迎接他的燦爛笑容證明：所有付出和掙扎都是值得的。一直以來都覺得跟程知節一個帳篷是針對他事不關心的某種“懲罰”。都是成長的過程嘛，有什麼的？最近他終於摸索到為啥叔寶總開玩笑說“咬金哪，肚裡都是糖”。_

_那天連續幾小時，他們超強度的訓練。太陽即將沒入地平線時，身後又是那個聲音。_

_“哎，你還好嗎？”_

_“啊，當然。”咋回事，大驚小怪的？_

_“你確定？來，咱歇會兒。”他把他拽到邊上。兩人坐下，暢快痛飲，乾了一瓶水。_

_“我說行儼，照顧好自己。看你臉比昨天還白... ...感覺如何？”_

_“很好，別擔心，就是累透了，想多睡會兒。下次能不把我吵起來不？”_

_“哦，我得叫你呀，抱歉了。俺知道這個年紀孩子都愛睡覺。但是咱們得按時間做事，對吧？不然，你知道會發生什麼。今晚早點睡，保證？”_

_“好，我保證。”_

在冷若冰霜的月下，失落的魂輕撫座下大石。往身旁瞅一眼，期望看到那扎煞著鬍子、滿頭大汗、盤著腿喘息的將軍。四周人影全無。他的心又一沉，進一步凍結。不是第一次想起種種事情，但每回都記憶猶新——栩栩如生映入眼簾，彷彿昨日。

幾天、幾月、直到幾年。靜靜等待，等到解脫的一天、自由的一天、雪恥的一天！在永遠離開前，見戰友們最後一面... ...

他看著唐軍大敗王世充人馬，城池被圍長達數月，餓殍遍野無人掩埋，窮途末路的國王出城投降，唐朝大軍湧入洛陽、吶喊如雷鳴響徹雲霄。他目睹羅士信佇立於墓前，仰天長吼他的名字，一遍又一遍，熱淚沖刷著歷經滄桑的臉頰，滿面通紅，青筋突出。他跟隨昔日的戰友、生死弟兄，出了城，再也不回頭。

從那時起，他徘徊於雲霧繚繞的高山、湍急的河流、人聲喧嘩的鬧市、典雅的庭園。心內雲淡風輕，卻仍不平靜。 隱約知道，還有人要等，有事沒完成。連年戰亂，摧毀了多少家庭、情誼、記憶！他也不例外，無法找回屬於自己的定數。夜不再慘苦，等待已不是煎熬，奈何歲月如梭，那顆冰凍的心越來越堅固、越來越寒。古老的土壤上信息繁雜，不斷呼喚著他，可是在那冰封的心底，有個聲音悄悄說：這不屬於你的，別停下腳步，要繼續尋覓。

* * *

程知節沒立刻進帳篷，呆在外面再度凝視漫天星辰。有隻貓頭鷹不知從何處飛進入他的視線，低沉的叫聲迴盪耳邊。老將久經沙場的心重新揪起來，抓住那些殘存的記憶，不肯撒手。他不願放下和那位已故小將僅有的聯繫。無論如何，兄弟的音容笑貌會永遠銘刻心間。

“咬金，進來睡吧。”營帳里傳出叔寶模糊的呼喚。

他轉過頭，伸手要掀開米色帳幕... ...手停在了半空。昔日的一幕幕重新映入眼簾。他一語不發，又回身仰頭面向天空，一滴淚滑下。億萬年了，閃爍的星星仍然孜孜不倦，照耀著動盪不安的世界。他閉上眼，不願看到雲層後的月牙。涼風徐徐，吹乾了熱淚。

睜開眼睛，一個身影站在跟前。那是熟悉的身影，穿著舊日的金甲，頭戴銀盔。蒼白的臉上，劍眉下，是已被很多人遺忘的銳利目光，炯炯閃爍。他微笑著，彷彿在說：我們又見面了。

程知節體內的血凝固了。是他！是朝思暮想的行儼！還以為再也不能相見了... ...他為何在此？他不是... ...去世了嗎？

行儼沒說話，走上前默默抱住知節，用盡他所能揮發的一切熱量和物質形體——被雕琢於他生命上的記憶所保存。他們之間沒有對白；塵封幾年的不安、思念、苦楚、和失落溶解在久別重逢兄弟緊緊的擁抱中。

不知過了多久，靈魂鬆開雙臂。兩人都明白，時刻到了。程咬金手搭在行儼肩上，最後一次端詳那雙眼眸。它們晶瑩透徹，散發著異樣的光芒。那是永恆的滿足、安寧、和快樂。他微笑著拍拍已經冰冷、半透明的肩膀，輕輕放開手。將軍轉身進了營帳。

他站在那，心中知道什麼都結束了，卻不肯離開。

“行儼，繼續你的旅途吧，” 一個憐愛的聲音響起，暖入心扉，融化了那層層冰封，輕輕安慰著。“以後還有事要做，任務要完成。別停留，走吧，親愛的孩子。”

最後一絲不安散去了。在無數個夜晚裡，頭一次，滴滴淚水順著他低垂的下顎滑落。

至此心願全了結了；一個旅程結束，另一個即將開始。他坐在石上，仰望星空，默默嘆息。


End file.
